


Beautiful (Umbrella Days)

by meiqis



Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: M/M, Yanren have the slightest of roles, goblin au, they're - like - mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 00:09:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16902354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meiqis/pseuds/meiqis
Summary: “On a day that holds all the colors of the rainbow,” he instead said as he reached his hand forward, an umbrella he hadn’t taken along now handed to this kid, an umbrella that was as clear as a diamond and as shiny as a soap bubble flying up high in the hair, shining like a rainbow in just the right light. “On a day this umbrella loses its use. On a day it doesn’t rain. Then you will be able to find love.”ora Goblin AU based on the OST Beautiful





	Beautiful (Umbrella Days)

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [Joey's tweet](https://twitter.com/wangziyee/status/1060159723989811200) that tempted me too much
> 
> I didn't follow a chronological order properly and I tweaked what I saw fit, partly because of the characters and partly because I didn't remember the plot that well anymore. I also focused on the emotions a lot more than the actions (what is new) but I hope it's still enjoyable enough?? I actually struggled on it a lot, I nearly slipped into my original ship not only once too, making this a whole struggle, and at times I found myself even thinking of a different fandom instead so if there are any faults... it's not mine!

_I’ll be behind you, Beautiful love_  
_If I am with you under the sun_  
_Even just breathing feels good_

Between the first time he had met him, and the first time he had felt the feeling of love, a whole life time might have passed, moments that had drawn out into hours with just a single swing of a pendulum closeted into a grandfather clock, standing in a corner far too far away, not close enough to have him grasp the concept of time despite the rushes of waves around them and the leaves falling to the ground, way faster than what his heart tricked him into thinking did happen for real.  
The first time, near a sea that seemed as vast as the loneliness in his heart and with the skies as dull as his life, drab and dreary, lacking color and light, there was this one figure that seemed to shine, like a diamond reflecting light, turning a single ray into a rainbow shining onto walls, a little something that was so translucent and looked simple to look through but held the ability to break light, to turn a plain trifle into one of so many shades and varieties, that was the way to describe this one person best, someone who was shining so bright even with the world around them being somber, someone who had the ability to reflect a single sunray into illuminating their surroundings.  
It was a moment during which the perse sea, resembling nothing but spread out solitude with the sound of waves so oppressive and crushing his senses until it seemed it was him to drown despite standing in the dry, turned into a glaucous ocean that was fascinating with its depths and movements, able to resemble a new start with every wave meeting the shore, looking so ambitious and brave as it crashed against the stones framing the pier, and the noise slowly became less and less burdening, turned into a soft melody played just for them, at a place that wasn’t touched by the rumoring of humankind, a place that was secluded and calming. It was a moment of the salty sea breeze mingling with the sweet scent of calla lily and lilac, the saline of the moment mixing with the innocence of this stranger in front of him, who did nothing but look at him with suspicion in deep brown eyes he wasn’t able to mirror, not when this very man was as fascinating as a diamond in the raw, breaking the beauty of the moment in a way that could never be replicated, and even more precious than a simple stone.  
“If she’s harassing you, you should be leaving her. Aren’t you at the age to finish high school? You’ll be able to live alone on your own in a while,” he had said to the man who had barely outgrown the boyish age at such time, and he had said it as if he were actually able to foresee such a future, a time during which this kid had grown up, into an admirable adult, living in his home and a good life, a future he would be able to see on anyone else but not this time around.  
“She’ll press charges,” the kid had replied, as if it were the most natural thing, as if this was a normal situation, as if he hadn’t appeared as the smoke born from candles having being blown out had vanished into thin air, as if those thoughts had been spoken out loudly, into his face, and not been just that, thoughts, a call, a request for aid as every human so often did, and at other times he would have just ignored it, if not for the magnetic force of planets being drawn to the sun drawing him to this bright person right in front of him.  
“She’s not allowed to press charges. Raising you, it’s something no one has to pay her for. Raising a child is a deed done out of love and not monetary greed. Don’t let her press charges.”  
“A mother raises a child out of love but this person isn’t my mother.” And if the ocean was as vast as loneliness could be, those brown eyes were as deep as grief could be, deep and dark and dulling the brightness of his self as even the last clouds closed in and blocked off the sun to instead allow a slow drizzle to come over them and engulf them in its sphere.  
“Your mother must have loved you deeply. She would be proud seeing you now,” were words born from a confidence he wasn’t able to define, it was a knowledge as deep as being aware of an apple falling from a tree high enough shattering into pieces on the ground, breaking apart like a snow globe, spilling wet and tainting their below, it was a world within a little body bursting, and like such little thing, the laughter that followed as a reply to his words was nothing but broken, so likely to break into a sob it felt like splinters being driven into his heart, reminding him of the last time he had ever felt like this, reminding him of a time a mother had pleaded him to save her child even when he knew it would be but ten years more he could grant her, ten years for her and a lifetime of having to run for the unborn in her womb.  
“Then what about a boyfriend? If you have solutions so readily at hand, what about receiving love? Will I ever get that? Or will I remain as pitiful as standing in the rain without an umbrella?” The kid asked, a human that didn’t even have a name yet and still seemed to turn into the center of his universe, something to revolve around, a human he wouldn’t be able to forget when passing lilacs and lilies, when standing near the sea and hearing white noise.  
“On a day that holds all the colors of the rainbow,” he instead said as he reached his hand forward, an umbrella he hadn’t taken along now handed to this kid, an umbrella that was as clear as a diamond and as shiny as a soap bubble flying up high in the hair, shining like a rainbow in just the right light. “On a day this umbrella loses its use. On a day it doesn’t rain. Then you will be able to find love.”  
“On a day it doesn’t rain… is this when I’ll see you next? On a day I won’t need this one?” This one, referring to the umbrella the holder was currently holding, shielded from the gentle droplets despite a bag and cake going to waste beneath the wet, a cake that must have looked sad being held by just one person and looked even sadder abandoned on the stones, left in the rain and with the candles slowly tilting to the sides as if they were ready to fall over.  
But it didn’t help him forget this one moment of perhaps just a few days ago, a moment in the rain more intense than the currently falling one, a moment of passing on the streets and seeing a diamond in the rough, shining like a droplet of morning dew beneath the rising sun, despite being packed to not end up soaked by the falling water, it was the first time in a long time he had seen someone captivating him, a moment he couldn’t forget, a moment that paled next to this one, a moment that had been about seeing against a moment that described a meeting, moments that made him appreciate the rain and being able to inhale the damp air with the taste of rain, innocence and nature on his tongue.  
“On a day you’re happier,” he found himself responding with an ease and sureness that must have embarrassed the mortal, enough so to have those brown orbs directed down to the ground and before they could look up to meet his frame again, he had already disappeared back into his house, seeing his own reflection in the mirror instead of someone being able to decide it, deciding the jumper he was wearing was one he, too, should reserve for a happier day, relishing in the soft color that resembled a being equally as soft.  
The first time, in a foreign country that had seemed to carry too many memories of them, of walking the streets and seeing shops, of a chirped “I love you, Mister!” and seeing glimpses of his past, it had been sunny and bright, full of the colors he had only learned to appreciate since this obdurate human had crossed his paths, one intersection of their lives after another, as if a way that was supposed to be straight was turning into a serpentine line, mingling and cutting with one of befitting traits, two waves of sine and cosine, and every meeting point of theirs had made him aware of how beautiful this little gemstone could be, how magnificent a life filled with color was, and as he lowered his book to, over the edge of the pages, watch a nimble figure dancing light approach him slowly, steps that were like the walking of a fairy carried by the breeze to the music of rustling leaves, crisp and intense on the ground, only coming to a halt by the red light of a traffic signal ahead.  
It was a day that seemed to carry all the colors of the rainbow he had once conjured, a prophecy he had spoken to come alive on its own, of the reds and yellows of leaves on the ground looking alive despite having fallen off thanks to colors so vibrantly lively, of greens on leaves still attached to strong brown and in splotches on the ground where those small plants were too stubborn to leave just yet, of a sky painted by a clear blue that didn’t befit the current season, of the purple this one person was dressed in, a shade that matched a scent of lilacs and lilies, reminded him of the lines he had just read, of mass not proportional to volume, because there was a thing so thing with the power to spin the universe, of a person as small as a violet, as lithe as a flower petal dancing in the air, of someone pulling him close, with more power than the gravity keeping all the planets in line and circling the sun, with a power that wasn’t equaling its mass, of rolling towards this one person, like an apple following Newton’s law of gravity, he felt like rolling towards this one person when it was this person to approach him, when it was the center of the universe that wasn’t him but this one person and moving didn’t mean this one was moving but instead the whole world around them, of hearts bouncing between the sky and the ground, like a pinball in the machine, it was his heartbeat strong and determined enough to work as engine for a whole world just to be able to keep all going if it meant he could further approach this certain someone, of first love, because eventually this was nothing but his first love.  
It was first love that made his heart beat faster and brought color back to his life, the color he projected on the crosswalk Zhengting was walking, a kid that had finally been named, a kid that had made itself a part of his life with power unequal to volume and mass, a being that was so small in mass but had the volume to expand like a universe born from the big bang that was their eyes meeting for the first time on that rainy day, the kind of volume that kept growing and growing until it was not only within his heart but expanding further, until all he could breathe was the innocence of lilacs and canna lilies, until all he could see was the galaxies within brown orbs, and all he could touch was but a reminder of things he had held in his hands as he had been so close to him.  
Like magnetic forces increasing the closer two poles were brought he felt more drawn to this flower petal like human, dancing over colorful lines drawn onto the ground, and further towards him once the show had been stopped, and with every step advancing in his direction he felt his heart beat louder, an overbearing sensation that had him deaf to all other sound and rhythmic enough to trance him into seeing nothing but a blur of lines, only to be swiped clean, as if the fog of a warm summer rain could be cleared by just wiping one’s arm, once he heard a soft voice break through the thumping of his own little organ, the one thing that could clean all blur as if it were but a feather caught in the air, “Mister, are you that fond of rainbows? Even giving me a rainbow instead of a red carpet? You must really love them a lot.”  
And there he was, the center of his universe personified, with soft brown hair and even softer orbs, dressed in gentle purple and with ruddy warmth on high cheeks and glossy lips, with earrings glistening blue and white in the sun while radiating the yellow of the sun, with the blooming green of spring in his tone, it was but this one person able to break a simple moment into the vibrancy of its compartments, nothing but a unique trait made for an even more unique person.  
“Mister, are you mad? Shouldn’t we have come here? We can ju-”  
“First love,” he interrupted, with the same ease and confidence he had used during their first ever talk as he had foreseen a future like this, a future in which he had been allowed to offer the love this nimble being deserved, to dress him in affection and care, until there was no need to doubt anything anymore. “It was first love.”  
“First love? A rainbow was your first love? Did you hit your head, Mister?”  
And even if a universe spinning around its universe didn’t mean this very same center was always able to keep up, it definitely kept spinning and spinning, and if his bride wasn’t able to just yet comprehend the meaning behind his words, it didn’t mean his feelings would stop because of that, like an apple falling down, his fall would continue until it had him bursting on the ground, landing in those gentle hands to make sure his feelings were delivered the way they were meant to.

_It’s a beautiful life_  
_Beautiful day_  
_I’ll be living in the memories of you_

There were a million of theories and possibilities to what might be lying behind a black hole, some are saying it could be a warp of time, some say it’s just the nothingness of exist, to him a black hole was the swallowing of an existence, of a universe, and within the nothingness that was born from overbearing consumption, there was the possibility of another big bang to birth a new universe, it was the concept of ruin and creation, a cycle of vanishing and rebirth, and in the times of nothingness that were between disappearing and appearing again it were only memories that were reminding him of once had been.  
Those very same memories that were attached to the lanterns he sent flying to the sky on always the same day of every year, on a day that been the end of the universe that was him before he had been granted a second life by the gods and he was, until this point, not sure whether it had been present or punishment, between having to experience the loss of all his loved ones as if to remind me of how many lives he had taken, how many sons, brothers, fathers and husbands he had taken from those that had not been apparent on the battlefields of wars he had been able to win one by one, and every year, with two lanterns that carried the names of those beloved to him, he was wishing he were able to send those souls off into the peace of the afterlife without carrying regrets towards their life, a life that was engraved into the sword stuck within his chest and always hurting more on this very day.  
“Nongnong,” he said softly, not willing to break the fragility of this moment that was looking after the two lanterns flying higher and higher into the sky, never to be stopping because they had been sent off by his hands, not until nature was able to triumph, water winning against paper and wind against fire, “Don’t let go of those dear to you. Even if they’re dead, hold onto the love you feel for them so the memories of those you love are keeping them alive.”  
“Is that the reason you sent them off, uncle? Out of the love you hold for them?” As if eager to attempt the same, the mortal next to him, too, used a gentle tone to speak, to preserve a soap bubble floating from the air, keep it from bursting by pressure and touch until it would be gone from sight, a trait he admired about the young man just as much as he had appreciated it centuries ago on his doppelganger, kind souls with even kinder hearts, with eyes expressing their gentle traits, eyes he could feel on him while his were still on the two ascending lights in the sky.  
“No. Not out of love.” Not anymore, because there had been days, dozens of, during which he had loved the king he had once served, a king he had seen grown up between the time he had entered the military service at a young age, a royal who had been nothing but a child, between the time he had been made a general, at a time this child had entered adolescence, between the time he had given a promise to the late king of protecting a son who was made to bear the weight of the crown at an age all too young, only to end with his last breath as a human being taken as he had collapsed on the stairs of the palace, with a sword in his chest robbing him of air and looking at a king who had barely lived a decade ever since they had first met. There had been a tenfold of days he had loved the queen, a girl he had seen grown up, a girl born from the same blood he had carried in his veins, a small innocent being who had turned into a beautiful woman ready to shoulder the whole burden of being married to the crown, a woman not intent on abandoning her morals in the hopes of saving the two men she cared about, a woman who had been dragged into a fight tearing a man in two because she didn’t want to choose either, caring too much for both, a woman who had been forced into this because one had been taking too many lives, because the other had been desperately keeping his. “Out of guilt.”  
The silence that had once been fragile now felt burdening and grand, amplified by the serenity of the night as two remaining lights disappeared further and further, long out of sight of human eyes and soon to vanish from his too, until only the wish to keep them float would connect him to their existence as they soared the skies.  
“Nongnong. Don’t ever reach the point at which you’ll feel guilty for losing those to you.”  
This time, he didn’t wait for an answer as he turned around, to leave behind the place built to remember them and their existence, a king he could have protected from madness if only he had taken care of the right people at the right time, a queen he could have kept from sacrificing herself if only he had heeded her more, a family he could have grown old with if only he had taken a different path, he could have watched them grow up and their children grow up and the wish to would have kept him alive on the battlefields he had to attend.  
It was the future of a past he couldn’t change, in which he wouldn’t have been cursed by the gods with a sword aching as it pierced his heart, in which he would have never met Zhengting because they were of two too different times, and in a world in which he was a mortal, it would have never bothered him, but in a world in which he had lived to this day and met this person, the idea of never meeting seemed like a quake shaking up his whole universe, and as he searched the sky for the two lanterns once again, he couldn’t help apologize for not being able to feel guilt alone, because his guilt had been washed into dreariness with the passing time, because his world looked brighter now that he had met this one human, because a tiny part of his was glad to have met this bride born from a curse cast upon him centuries ago.

_Always I’ll protect you_  
_It’s a beautiful life_  
_Be able to lean on me_

There are certain times in life, people will be pushing their limits, to achieve a goal for themselves or those they care for, to go somewhere and to lengths deemed impossible just to be able to prove themselves, sometimes it was just to protect someone they loved, and it was for the latter that he went to lengths, over and over again, just to be able to preserve a certain smile he loved so much, to protect the person it belonged to and keep that one out of harm’s way, incidents that were easy to take care of, incidents that were more difficult to be resolved, but all of them were taken care of, and if only because the idea of losing someone again, because of his own incapabilities, his shortcomings, was way too painful for him to handle.  
Sometimes, no matter how excruciating it had been, it had been his own mistake, his fault to hurt the one he didn’t want to be hurt, there had been a time he had pushed away a being so lithe and fragile as if it was weighing hundred time its mass, when he had needed to catch the one he had caused to fly only to break his own ribs apart because no matter how great one being was, it didn’t save them from the pain that was inflicted upon them by injuries, even if their bodies were more sustainable than a mortal one. But between him sustaining some raptures that could never kill him and watching his ticket out of this torment being taken to the hospital at best, it had been so easy to decide which was best, had been an action of instinct, to throw himself between that tender body and a truck, and to take this being to bed in hopes of his treasure not remembering anything of such happening.  
To know that Zhengting would remember, Zhengting, who so sweetly had been gullible to his pleas, who had grabbed the sword to end his sufferings as if it would be that easy, but it was never that easy, he guessed, because those who needed to give up on something that stuck with them for too long also needed to let go first, and the idea of giving up on a life he had grown so weary of, something he had wanted to end for centuries, through exorcism and cruel deaths, through starvation and drinking himself into coma, had suddenly seemed so intimidating when the black-and-white of his life had evolved into color, and the wish to get to know a person with movements more delicate than anything he had seen ever since observing his younger sister’s dance on the night of her marriage had outweighed the sincere desire to end all his own pain and suffering.  
It hadn’t been the only incident, it couldn’t have been, because for a being that had never been meant to be born, the ten, a number of completion, of completing a circle, a number that was said to be similar to god, bore a risk of its own, because the closer one would get to a state of completion the more dangerous a situation could be, and Zhengting… Zhengting was just like that, a being that had never been meant to be born, would always be at risk just short of completing another decade of his life, accidents and not-so-accidents, and like a small snowball rolling down a mountain, the further it went, the more mass it would accumulate, but the mass of such would not be an increase in volume, much rather it would mean more and more people having to suffer with him.  
The incident caused by him, too, had been just another one in a chain of events, setting of what was meant to be set off, a ball starting to roll, a punishment for a deed that wasn’t yet done, the longer his bride lived, without completing his task, to the deities and the scales of fate, it was like losing one’s right to live, and it made it look like a tragedy written into the stars, a blooming love that meant the surviving of one would bring forth the end of the other, so he could only rush and run in his vain attempts to win the race against time and never to be changed rules.  
And if it meant running from one door to the next, always getting further away from a certain bus, catching up to a robber who might be no more than the pawn moved across the marbled white, because every pawn moved gave way to a dozen events set into motion and some would meet a dead end whereas others meant nothing but the defeat of one side, and the defeat he was about to experience now, the loss of his bride and several others, wasn’t one he was eager to experience.  
Seconds felt like minutes and one minute like hours, up until he had overtaken this one robber, this pawn that would set off a chain of events if moved just one square across the board, a move he needed to prevent before it would even take place, although it meant having to wager his own abilities against those of fate, which would, eventually, lead to a game he would never be able to win, because the inevitable was just that, nothing he could evade.  
Yet despite all odds, he would always and always again go against the lots only to protect this one human, had no regrets to hinder a robber’s escape on a bike if just it meant to prevent a car crash, complaints of people met his deaf ears as he was able to just watch a bus of public transport pass by without hindrance, couldn’t bother him, not when from within the bus a so confused and yet so brightly smiling Zhengting was waving at him from inside, past the windows, as if there were no worries about failing the university entrance test, about getting held up or, worse, suffering the accident that had just been averted, and there likely weren’t, because in his innocence, there was no such thing as worrying over matters unfathomable by the humane.  
The memory of this very smile, so artless and gentle, was fading away when spotting the figure several lanes away, on the other side of the road, familiar tall figure and black coat, the broad brimmed hat telling tales of a profession no one would enjoy to pursue, seeing the suffering of people not always outweighing the happiness one was allowed to see, at times he wasn’t sure whether seeing the future or the past of a person was the worse of fates, seeing what they had done and what they would do, but he was certain that being the henchman of a god no one had seen was no joyful career, it was the burden those immortal had to carry on their shoulders for the sins they had once committed.

_Beautiful love_  
_Your tears and your smiles_  
_Be able to share_

Without light, no one would ever know about the dark, and right around, without the dark, no one would be able to appreciate the light, just as Zhengting was the light to his darkness, a bright star glowing on the firmament surrounding them and turning into the only thing he’d be able to see, but it was something he was only able to treasure, something he wanted to keep for himself and something to keep looking at, because for years and decades it had been too dark, too much of his curse to handle which was not about living an eternity with only one way out, the ever constant sounds of people’s thoughts as they took their last breath, and maybe, that too, was irony of fate, for people related to death being attracted to each other like magnetic poles being drawn closer.  
It was no surprise to have run into grim reapers, it was an inevitable occurrence when living for so long, when seeing the last moments of those whose eyes he had met, when hearing their last ideas, when wanting to guard those he thought deserving of his protection, people who were selfless, who would do the world better, those with a pure heart, although, it had been a surprise to find little innocent Linong renting his house to such person, thinking so innocently and wanting to do a good deed, so it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him that even his bride, a person who shouldn’t be alive according to Yanchen’s words, a person who held no card, no name, who wasn’t registered amongst the alive nor the dead, was someone affected by death, someone able to see the ghosts only few were able to perceive, but it had been, it had been a surprise, it was an ability he didn’t want to wish upon such a spirited person but an ability he had to be thankful for, because, at least, it meant he didn’t have to explain as much as he would have needed to otherwise.  
But even if Zhengting was the brightest star in his heaven’s tent, it didn’t mean that this one human, too, couldn’t be covered by a cloud as well, a little cloud of sadness or grief at times, it had been a grand cloud at the time he met, like an exquisite wine not yet having been filtered, and the more he had gotten to know about his bride, the more he had become aware of the foolishness of certain humans, those who did see nothing but monetary value and visuals, who didn’t care about a boy having lost his family and suffering as he was raised, much a Cinderella in disguise, someone deemed crazy for talking to the dead and yet, in their vain attempts, they still wanted to get close, wanted to take advantage of kindness and receive what they didn’t deserve, and it was just another moment of cloudiness, a moment of his little light dulling as he was held in his arms, and he didn’t want to see it but he was aware too well of that the good moments could rarely outweigh the less happy ones, that it was nothing he could eradicate from the balance of life no matter how much of his tenderness he was willing to show to a being so much younger than him.  
Yet behind all this knowledge of good and bad, of happy and sad, it didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to do his uttermost to try to brighten up his little star, looking so small curled up into his side, sobbing and trembling and clutching photo books and letters to his chest as if they were no less important than a small heart fluttering within a fragile chest, and that much he could understand, after catching sight after even just a few lines written neatly on paper with coffee stains leaving their marks, as if the writer herself hadn’t been worried about it all, written in maybe a haste or the spurt of a moment but not lacking in feeling the least, words of maternal love and affection, sweet wishes and gentle words, tainted by the knowledge about a death approaching her because she had already received more time than she had been allowed, time given to her not out of kindness by the gods but the mercy of one who had taken more lives than he ever could save.  
For someone affiliated to death, it had been a surprise, to know that his bride was the one person he had granted a life, not a life better or happier but a life that had not been meant to be, a life about to end before it had even started because of the selfishness of one, but now he was the one painted in egoism for wanting to see that one smile ready to undo all the clouds he was able to conjure on his own, pulling the smaller closer as if that would aid Zhengting to feel warmth and affection again. “She loved you, blossom. She loved you so much, despite knowing death might come for her every year on this one day, she wanted to make sure you were a happy child.”  
There was no response, none he could grade, there were but trembles and shivers and a shaky hand clutching the panel of his coat as the mortal turned further towards him, buried such beautiful but tear stained face into his shoulder as if just doing that would take the pain away and shield from the world, and maybe the latter he could do, but replacing a person so highly missed was not a deed he could be doing on his own. “She loved you, blossom. She loved you lots,” was all he could mumble into messed up hair, feeling the edge of photo books dig into his chest and the only sound that followed was that of the key that dropped to the ground, a key that had become useless as a chest for a treasure long gone, a key that left nothing behind but an empty locker seeming serene surrounded by the silence of books that screamed the stories of thousands.  
Within the scales and balance of life, on which sharing happiness would double such feel but sharing sadness didn’t mean to cut it in half, it seemed the former was easier to do, easier to achieve, because sharing a smile was so much faster done than sharing a tear, and maybe it was a reward and a punishment alike, for one to share the good with all, but carry the burden of the bad on their own.  
It had made it a simple task to share so many smiles and laughter alike, to look bright with just buying his bride an ice, to mirror joy as he heard about the humane day, to smile at the mortal at the table at night, it was said without pain that the younger was shining the most while carrying an honest smile on his lips.  
“You’re doing it again,” someone suddenly declared next to him, right into his ear, actually, and the warm breath was startling him well enough to break his staring at Zhengting, just some several feet away, within his line of sight resting on the couch and watching whatever on the phone, bright smile on gentle lips, and forcing him to direct his eyes at the figure clad in black at his back, apparently with a look questioning enough for Yanchen to go on, “The staring. At your bride. It would be creepy if it wasn’t adorable.”  
“I think a death god appearing behind me is more terrifying than staring at someone beautiful.”  
“I can’t take you away, you know that,” the reaper replied with ease while also lifting his frame onto the isle, in perfect synch to Ziyi moving aside to get to the fridge, an apple and juice in his hands each. “But falling for him… It will complicate the matter once he has to kill you, old man.”  
“Didn’t you know? Dying at the hand of the one you love is less painful than losing it all to a stranger’s hand.” And shouldn’t he know, after it was him to have rather requested his own officer to kill him than a part of the royal guard he had never met, on the order of a king too young to rule and overly affected by a false tongue within their own realm. “At least then you’re able to say goodbye.” Because a goodbye, that was what he would need.

_The day I loved you so badly_  
_Beautiful life beautiful day_  
_I don’t want to lose you_

Many mortals, he had found, found delight in magic, be it the wrong depictions of shows he had watched already decades ago, the playing and shuffling of cards and letting people hover in the air, allowing things to appear and disappear at their own free will, nothing but tricks to deceive those who were innocent enough to fall for kindhearted lies, deceive those who didn’t have the knowledge or didn’t intend to look behind it. There was also what they would call the real magic, what an old tongue might call a curse or a witch’s doing, Zhengting’s ability to see the dead unwilling to leave, it most definitely wouldn’t have been treated lightly, abilities like his, to float things, to survive that which he shouldn’t survive, his immortality, which could be seen as a blessing or a curse, and there were the kind they could share, the way his bride would follow him wherever he went by stepping through the doors he opened, to summon him by blowing out fire and even if it wasn’t intentional.  
Putting all these aside, though, he thought the purest of magics, or that which would humane tongue describe as such, was nothing more but a moment, a fleeting spark that was born from just being with the one he loved, and therefore magic could even lie in a moment that seemed so painful, its sparks flying with every snowflake around them that was slowly falling down onto the ground, each little frozen thing, dancing like a flower petal in the spring breeze, like the human in front of him was supposed to, and he could still remember those lithe steps so clearly despite them having turned into nothing but a grum trudge on the way from the ski resort back to the small house a room was rented it, and it had felt like every step taking was slowly weighing down on his shoulders too, because he missed the way a certain dancer was mincing around his house, it was an image he had been able to fantasize about in those moments he was spacing out, but now that he had seen the entire opposite, it was hard to match to so different pictures in his mind.  
“Mister?” His bride finally called out but instead of being able to spot him behind, he had long since moved to stand in front of the human instead, he didn’t want to be something Zhengting had to look back at, wanted to be something to look forward to, someone to expect and approach, a mark on the path that laid ahead of the student, no matter how hard it might be to spot him in the dark, and in this one moment he wasn’t sure whether such an idea was one that came across the right way or couldn’t be understood, not when the face he was looking at seemed so worn out and closed off. “Why are you here?”  
Why was he? Because he had missed his bride? Because he wanted to die? Because he wanted to apologize for keeping the truth from the one who could decide the moment his life would end? That marrying him, that celebrating a small and cheerful wedding wasn’t something to take place because being his bride meant to be able to kill him? Because he was aware that, the longer he pushed it off, the more at risk this human would be for not fulfilling his role put upon him by destiny? Because it had been his own selfishness stopping that just to spend some more time with this one person? “To take you home,” he answered to the one in front of him but to none of the questions he had to ask himself.  
“Home…” There was a dull void echoing throughout this one word, as if just saying it had drained all of the mortal’s energy and this same void was the one that also swallowed all of his heart in one big take, had him feeling cold in a weather that couldn’t even affect him and shivering with a freezing gush of wind that had never blown. “Is your place home?”  
“Home is wherever you want to be,” he said slowly, as if the words were costing him more than he could afford, and it remembered him of moments just like this one, of a man he had once met, from Linong’s line of descendants, who had loved so much he had never let go of his wife but it had never been oppressive, he had made sure there was nothing she could be lacking, that her every wish had been read from her eyes, and their love had been so strong it had followed them throughout the centuries so that even now, with their roles reversed, with the wife having turned into the husband and their kid giving birth to Linong, they had not been separated through time. Compared to them, to this giving and fulfilling love, he felt as if he had been failing, wanting to give Zhengting his all but missing to tell him which was important, and now it was coming back to him in ways he didn’t want, had never asked for, and the handful of feet between them felt like a fracture in the ground too far to bridged with a simple jump. “I want it to be me.”  
He didn’t realize he had spoken the last out loud, not until he could see those brown doe eyes widen in surprise and seconds felt like minutes with the snow falling down around them as he waited, waited for a rejection or acceptance, whichever it was or would be, and as seconds turned into minutes turned into hours, the words he received in return felt like an echo far away and yet worked wonders in pulling him back to reality with an earth crushing force, “Then take me home.”  
It was this moment, he decided, which he would want to call magic, not being able to travel to the other end of the world by crossing a door, not being immortal, seeing the wonders of the world, it was this moment of being called home by someone who held his heart and his life, to realize that, yes, this was the thing he had hoped for, because if he had realized one thing throughout the last weeks, it was that he didn’t want to pass this life, he didn’t want to leave it, he didn’t want to be without Zhengting, to lose this one person he just wanted to be with, and it reminded him of a day not too long ago but so far away, of leaves falling and dancing and a boy so innocently jumping the crosswalk painted in the colors of the rainbow.  
And as he opened his arms and was greeted by the human walking forth to step into his embrace, he felt warmth spread throughout his body all over again in a world that was supposed to be cold, and if the snowflakes started to sparkle again as they minced around them, he was sure it was because of the most precious gemstone in the world shining brighter than any start, even as he tried to suppress the light by pressing the ruddy from the cold and maybe embarrassment face against his shoulder, fingers carding through soft brown hair, and despite having lived a couple centuries, fought a dozen wars, it took him all his courage to press a gentle kiss to the crown of another head.

_The memories which resemble with you in the world_  
_Those are remained to me_  
_The memories of you, the memories with you_  
_It’s a sorrowful life_  
_Sorrowful day_

Ten years, he had to realize, ten years were a long time, could be, ten years before had been but a matter of moving from one place to another, a matter of not getting found out, no better than those vampires in absurd tales of teenage fiction, but ten years of walking through loneliness, he had to realize, once he saw something different than endless white, those ten years could be long, ten years of just following the standing of a sun that never went down, as if it were but his own feet to keep the planet he was walking moving, ten years of not knowing where he came from, who he was, where he was walking, what it was he was looking for, nothing he could remember but something that kept him going even as he was sure his legs would be falling off from the burning exhaustion, and without the hints of time, the change of light or hands indicating a count, all he could rely on was the slow build up of fire in his muscles that would only subside into numb fatigue again.  
But ten years, he realized now, as he was looking at the evidence of all the things he had missed, had forgotten, that had passed without him, were a long time, a long, long time, of seeing a fragile looking teenager grow into his body, standing tall and straight, even the breaths taken telling of the elegance held within this light body that might have grown in strength and width but not without keeping a slenderness at all the right places, not even to be hidden by the loose shirt fluttering in the spring breeze as they were standing on the same stage, the open field turned into an auditorium opening up in front of him and it made this single person in the front look all the more lonely, with no one surrounding this tender person holding but a single candle and a waft of smoke still going up to disappear into thin air, it was oddly resemblant of a day so many years ago, a time that must have felt too long for a human and yet came in form of a concept he hadn’t been able to understand for all the same while. It was resemblant of a lonely teenager shouting to outdo the waves crashing against stone and shore who was now battling the silence with the same weapons, of someone who was looking for the ones to accept and treasure him only to now leave those willingly behind, of someone who hadn’t thought it odd that someone had just appeared out of nothing but who would surely soon be ogling him with suspicion and wonder in his eyes all the same.  
There was the echo of question asked filling his ears still, questions of why people couldn’t be kept close, of why loneliness was a steady companion, of why there was a feeling of missing something, the last piece to finish the puzzle that was a person, something to keep a water tank from leaking instead of always pouring in more and more, it were questions he wanted to answer, one by one, as he held the answers within his heart that was squeezing tight, wrapped in wire and pulled on, until he could feel the muscles of the little organ within his chest bulging from the pressure, driving him mad with pain that made even just breathing difficult and that slowly filled the air around them, until a soft drizzle filled the air around them, a soft pitter patter on the wood of the stage but painting the frame in front of him in otherworldly beauty, even as loud screams followed from tender lungs, echoing around the open space and drowned out by thunder and lighting that was only letting down when he heard the hoarseness in that booming voice and saw all air leave the exhausted wings.  
His own steps sounded loud as he crossed the wet stage, procuring an umbrella from seemingly nothing just as he had done over ten years ago, in the beginning of winter, signaling the end of a stage, to now do it in a spring that would stand for the beginning of something new, of flowers blooming with life and happiness blooming on people’s faces again, happiness he wanted to see on one certain face currently turned away from him and still hit by the rain until he had raised the umbrella to shield such fragile flower standing there, as if it would bend and break by the sheer force of nature procured by his own abilities, and it seemed only then he had received the attention he wanted, a gaze painted in wonder and curiosity, a hint of fear, hidden recognition.  
“On a day that holds all the colors of the rainbow,” he said before the human breathing heavily in front of him could utter a word first, his free hand raised to brush back wet strands of hair and reveal more of that beautiful face, and then reached to grab a cold and wet hand to take the umbrella in his stead as he went on, “On a day this umbrella loses its use. On a day it doesn’t rain. Then you will be able to find the answers you want.”  
It wasn’t like all those years ago this time around, there was no ease to their talk because this person didn’t know, it was something he knew the way he was aware his side would be decorated in scars once he looked at his bare body in the mirror, his chest would still carry the wound of the sword that had once pierced his heart, and the tension surrounding them had the raindrops nearly stopping in their fall, until he felt fingers tighten around his to hold the shield above their figures. “I didn’t know there was a theater troupe around too…”  
“There isn’t,” he said, as he slowly undid his fingers from their match, from digits he had used to hold with all the care he could muster but now had to let go of for the sake of stepping away, because he couldn’t force what once had been, needed to find a different approach, and so he left, even as he heard the calling for whether they would meet again, and just before stepping off the stage, he turned around to answer, “On a day you’re happier, we will.”  
And they would, he knew, he knew it as well as he knew the streets they had walked, knew of the day they had spent in an adorable bookstore themed bakery, watching Zhengting eat one cake after another only to stop once there was one with chocolate served for him, it had been the day he had asked what he liked and disliked, the things he should never serve at home lest he’d be displeasing his bride, the things he could gift knowing it would bring nothing but joy. He knew the jewelry shop they went by, in which he had bought a certain ring that had glistened held by a necklace around that tender neck, a ring he knew his dear would have never been able to afford but fallen in love with nonetheless, eyes bright and sparkling like the stars at night as they were directed at the silver band, one he had imagined buying a better version of, with fine diamonds, delicate and light, befitting a flower petal like dancer that made his life as colorful as a gemstone breaking light. He also knew the dance studio he was passing by, with its wide and open windows, allowing passersby to look inside, to see the grandest room currently occupied by but one person, the movements he could recognize even when the owner had changed so much, from barely a teenager growing into his limbs to a well built man, and it seemed like mockery, to see the jade bracelet now shining as it reflected the light, golden embellishment looking so bright, and as their gazes met over an agitated spin, he could see the same light he had once seen on a face so different and yet so alike, with the same spark in brown eyes, the same rosy lips and flushed cheeks, this very light that had kept him coming back from wars when his own life had been considered one to stop, and this time it made him feel content to know he wasn’t remembered, this time he was relieved, because it meant there was a better life, one without painful memories of the past, ahead of this still young man.  
There were memories, hundreds and countless of memories, in the color of red that reminded him of leaves falling as Zhengting had approached him in another country, one not yet painted by the white of winter, in a flower he knew would be his bride’s favorite, painted on a slender white shoulder as a reminder of a night he knew had started this all, in the feather a bird lost on its flight and as it sailed down the air, he was recalling the sight of black ink on smooth skin he had only ever caught glimpses of. There were traces of their days spent together whenever he opened the door, the door to a room that was colored so gentle and thoughtful, with books and whispers of the past, and there was the lack of, as he sat at a table that was empty now, lacking the black clothed tall man eating his salad and wondering about bills, such a human thing to do for a person that was dead, and he found himself wishing for the company of a grim reaper now who he had despised merely for the task, for the occupation that involved taking his bride from him, wishing for the company of his late king and if only to apologize, because he could have done better, because he should have decided different, because there had been no use in ending it like this.  
But all these thoughts were brushed from his mind along with strands of hair getting pushed behind his ear, and in wonder he looked up into an absurdly handsome face, a face he knew by memory and that he would recognize at any given time, a face now filled with so much love and adoration as that same hand cupped his face to tilt it up.  
“I think today is a good day to be happy, Ziyi. Today is a very good day to love you, Wang Ziyi.”

_To me who can’t overcome a sadness_  
_Sorrowful life sorrowful day_  
_Please don’t leave me_  
_So I won’t be living in the memories_  
_It’s a beautiful life_

Ten years, before, had felt like a long time, and they made a few months all the more treasurable, because a few months and a handful of pictures was all that had been left for him to spend with his bride, and now that he was alone, ten and twenty, thirty and forty years, they felt unbearable long, a sensation of walking through water with the density of mud, of breathing air that was more fog than oxygen, it was becoming harder and harder, day by day, with only so little things to keep him going, the love of seeing Linong grow into a fine young gentleman only to be followed by the pain that was approaching death with every more year, every added wrinkle on such a bright face, things like meeting people from the past all over again, those he had talked to and those he had befriended, those he had known and those he had avoided, those he had guarded and those he wanted to shield, and every day was offering something new, giving him pieces of an infinite puzzle one by one, and even as the picture kept growing there was one part gone, missing in the middle and hurting his heart.  
With all the time passing, he could hear too many people die and those that mattered were those he still visited, wanting to watch them take their last breath so their last thought wouldn’t go to waste, so someone could hear it, so someone would be with them, just as he had done all those centuries ago and would do for another few, for long or for short, for the good will or the bad will of those who were in charge of fate and time, until his waiting had an end and a grim reaper, maybe a deity, would take his life. A life he wished to be more beautiful as he sat in the grass, watching spring bloom around him and flower petals carried by the wind, he wasn’t sure which it was, where it would go, but he knew it reminded him of a certain dancer as it minced with the breeze and went its own ways, and his eyes traced it as it was followed by a soap bubble, until their alignment was just right, until the light was just right, and the flower petal seemed to be covered by a rainbow that was but a small globe.  
It wasn’t until there was a silent bursting sound echoing so loudly in his ears that he felt hands covering his eyes from behind as a figure leaned against his own, lithe and tender still, the way he knew it, barely weighing more than a feather he knew would return to smooth skin, but now all he could do was wrap his fingers around skinny wrists to pull down slender hands, refusing the urge to press kisses to pulse points in his need to feel close and closer still, to finally indulge in having the person he craved back to his side.  
“Today is a good day to be happy… to walk without an umbrella… to love a mister with the name of a king,” a gentle voice reminded him, reminded the many many memories, of a first look shared in the rain and the umbrella he had handed over at the sea, of plodging through the falling snow just to catch a glimpse of his runaway bride, of a day in a warm place and surrounded by violets as they recited their vows, and now, recalling this vow, he reached to detach a ring from a necklace and hold it out into the air, waiting and watching until a single digit moved to get the silver band back to his skin.  
“Today is a good day to love Wang Ziyi,” the voice said again and as he turned his head finally, he found but a teenager in front of his eyes, a gentle face not yet grown into angles and edges and still so very beautiful, and this time he couldn’t resist leaning in to gently press his lips to their match to relish in a feeling he hadn’t felt for too long.  
“Today is a good day to meet again, _Theo_ ,” because that was the name written on the tag.

**Author's Note:**

> If you stuck around until here, I congratulate you!  
> Usually I have more stuff to say but, as I post this, it's way too late to be up even so...  
> Well, I have [twitter](https://twitter.com/zhengjunist) and [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/dadting)


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